


When the World Gets You Wrong (Right)

by iBear



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 17:31:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iBear/pseuds/iBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An estate dispute prompts Harvey to reflect on the delusions he's set up between him and his flaws, and how Mike keeps tearing them down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the World Gets You Wrong (Right)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malapert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malapert/gifts).



> For a slash fic, this is pretty gen! I hope my lovely recipient enjoys it or at least isn't too disappointed. <3
> 
> So much thanks to my beta Waldo, who really did not hold back and helped me kick this fanfic into shape!

“So, you talked to Davis for three hours,” Harvey stated, voice wry with disbelief, “and got us to take over one of the cushiest cases the firm has ever had?”

“Pretty much,” Mike agreed. “He was a great guy. Had style and charm and a whole lot of money—sound familiar?”

Harvey shot Mike a quelling look while he scoffed. To say that Reginald Warren Davis III had “a whole lot of money” was an understatement in the way saying the Atlantic Ocean had a whole lot of water. Davis had been one of the firm’s wealthiest clients when he had still been alive, and his last payment to Pearson Hardman, for the execution of his will, would no doubt be proportional to his vast wealth. As much as Harvey prided himself on the person he had become, he could admit his shortcomings in this area: He was nowhere near as rich as Davis had been.

“As flattered as I am that you think I have style and charm, I’m not just missing the money when you compare me to Davis,” Harvey quipped, turning back to the files spread all over his desk.

“What, I don’t count as your gifted, nubile protégé?” Mike asked, faking a hurt tone. He held one hand over his chest in feigned heartbreak.

“If I were sleeping with you and not remembering it, Mike, that would be a testament to your lack of skills and not my bad memory,” Harvey warned him, not refusing to look up from yet another list of assets as Mike rolled his eyes. They had been having a repeat of this conversation all week. Harvey couldn’t let go of the fact that Mike had somehow managed to draw in yet another client with his awkwardness alone, and Mike had unerringly found the one topic that made Harvey pause.

“You can’t honestly tell me you don’t like Jack.”

Harvey really couldn’t, because Jonathan Miles or “Jack, just Jack” was practically too nice to hate. A twenty something accountant and Davis’ live in heir, Jack was Pearson Hardman’s new client and Harvey’s new problem. He had shown up at the firm a day after the funeral, wearing a skinny black tie with his well-tailored black suit, and had looked so much like Mike fidgeting in front of Donna’s desk that Harvey had to stop and shake himself before looking again. At least he knew why Davis had taken to Mike so quickly.

 _“I’m getting sued!” Jack had told him, feigning excitement to try to hide the deep lines of sorrow and grief on his face._

And that was why Harvey and Mike were sitting in Harvey’s office at midnight, trying to prepare themselves for an estate dispute between Jack and his deceased lover’s children. Harvey had to like Jack, because he wouldn’t have stayed so late in the office otherwise.

“Besides, maybe I could be the Jack to your Davis if you weren’t so emotionally unavailable,” Mike grumbled, good-natured but too insightful.

That was the annoying thing about Mike. It was never the cheesy movie references he made at inopportune times, the overemotional displays, or the tendency to lecture. Harvey didn’t even really care about the romantic catastrophes the man invited. What really pissed him off about Mike was that he was so good at finding the weaknesses in everyone’s façade and _didn’t even know it_. He sabotaged himself, tripping himself up and lying to himself to the point where he thought that it didn’t hurt when he pushed too hard. With a little more self-awareness, Mike could be the perfect lawyer.

Harvey knew because he had been there, before Jessica found him in the mail room. He had been poor and on drugs and sharp where he had broken. Now, he was rich and addicted to expensive sporting goods and jazz records and whatever cracks he hadn’t been able to smooth over, he covered up with well-tailored suits. He pushed until people broke, but mostly on purpose and he took responsibility for the consequences.

Mike would learn the way Harvey had learned that building an identity around a person only led to trouble. Harvey had been a good law student for Jessica, a ruthless prosecutor for Cameron, and the emotional codependency he had so easily fallen into had been nice until Donna had shown up with the evidence and a demand that was almost a plea. Mike was the same way, and Harvey remembered the way he and Trevor had walked with their shoulders bumping against each other, lagging behind him to have some privacy, some _intimacy_ before it all got torn away.

And they were so predictable, because Mike wanted to be Harvey’s good little associate, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being his next Trevor, his next Cameron—his next _Davis_ , and that was so messed up he couldn’t believe he had just thought it, sitting there with Mike in his office.

 _“You know you want it,” Harvey remembered Mike saying, holding out his fist. Harvey also remembered the quirk to his lips that shouldn’t have happened, the overexcited glance around to make sure no one was looking before he returned it. It was something personal, something private happening between them._

Harvey hated wanting anything he couldn’t have, and Mike always knew just where to _push_ —

“Are you okay?” Mike asked. Harvey ignored the question, focusing instead on the files Mike held out. “They’re psych evals—Davis didn’t want anyone accusing Jack of taking advantage of a poor, senile old man.”

Harvey took them with a nod and watched as Mike settled back down to work. “You already read that file,” he said, because Harvey had kept an eye on Mike every step of the case, trying to pick out the moment when he had to fish Mike out of his own blind determination to win.

“I know, but it never hurts to read it again,” Mike replied, flipping through the papers at record speed.

“I thought you had an eidetic memory?” Harvey prodded again, satisfied when Mike slammed the file shut.

“Do you have a problem with me doing my job?” Mike joked, but his temper was simmering away under the surface.

“I have a problem with you getting too emotionally invested in your job. What did I tell you? You can’t do this with everyone!” Harvey shouted right back, and he was relieved and ashamed to feel the tension leaving him. They had been dancing around this all week, ever since Jack had come in with the lawsuit. Mike had become hyper focused on the case, motivated by some wrongheaded loyalty to Davis that Mike managed to develop after three hours along with the man.

“This isn’t everyone!” Mike shot back. “Reggie was a _good guy_. He was the best! He meant everything to Jack!”

“ _Reggie_?” Harvey echoed, incredulous. “Oh, were we on a first name basis with this guy? This guy that you knew for _three hours_ before he bit the dust?”

Harvey could tell by the way Mike’s jaw was clenched that he had gone too far, and he felt his heart begin to beat too hard, too quickly. It almost drowned out the sound of Mike’s scorn, “Well, if we’re going to go for irrational emotional reactions, then _fine_ , I can do that. So, what’s wrong with you, Harvey? Why are you pissed that Reggie picked you? Is it because he thought you two had something in common, and you weren’t okay with that?”

He could feel his teeth grinding together, and that was odd, because he hardly ever got that angry nowadays. “Depends. What exactly do we have in common, Mike?”

“Nothing,” Mike told him, cutting in how matter of fact he was, “because Reggie actually cared about Jack, and you don’t give a shit about me!”

“We’re not sleeping together, no matter what a perverted billionaire thought!” Harvey seethed.

“Well, maybe we would be if you got over yourself enough to ask!” Mike snapped back, and maybe the expression on Harvey’s face was sufficiently horrified or shocked, because the anger on Mike’s face melted away in an instant. “Look, it’s not about me or sex or what Reggie thought. It’s not even about me sniping at you for being a bastard while I try to get you to open up or you being passive aggressive because maybe Reggie gave you an idea about our relationship that you didn’t want to see.”

“Then what is it about?” Harvey asked, fists clenched so tight he thought he was shaking.

“Well, since you’re asking me, I think it’s about the fact that throughout this entire week, and especially tonight, we’ve been showing just how much we both might want Reggie to be right,” Mike finished.

Harvey didn’t have anything to say to that, but that was okay because Mike left after a few minutes, chased out by the silence and disappointment.

\--

“You don’t look happy,” Jack offered with the tone of a man who was waiting for someone else to fill in the blanks.

“Today should be pretty clear cut,” Harvey said, running right over the other man’s good intentions. “Davis was very thorough, and it’s not like his kids aren’t getting anything. To be honest, I can’t even believe a lawyer took their case.”

“Money is a great motivator,” Jack brushed off. “Do all lawyers look this unhappy?”

The patronizing stare Harvey had shot at him in reply forced Jack to change tracks.

“Where’s Mike? I thought he’d be here.” Jack watched the way Harvey grimaced, his eyes hardening as he struggled to keep his professionalism. “Oh. You got into a fight?”

“What’s there to fight about? He’s my subordinate. I tell him when he’s wrong, and he’s not allowed to argue back,” Harvey replied, chagrined when it only evoked a laugh from Jack.

“That doesn’t mean he won’t,” Jack replied. “You wouldn’t have hired him if he had just taken it.”

“I’m not sure this is an appropriate conversation,” Harvey finally broke off, giving in first. Jack simply shrugged, and between his disheveled hair and yet another skinny tie, Harvey was having a hard time not thinking of Mike.

“You know, Reggie used to say he liked watching me work. Not that balancing books is fascinating or anything, but…” Jack started as they headed for the conference room where their opponents were waiting. “But he liked the company, I think, and the fact that I never wanted anything from him _but_ that.”

Looking at his new client again, Harvey realized Jack looked tired. He didn’t look like he was in his late twenties now, with the lines on his face deepened by sorrow and the realization that he was alone again.

“We were fucked up, Harvey. I was a screw up before he offered me a job and taught me how to keep it, and he was trying to keep himself company with money and wives he didn’t actually want to see. It was never about sex. We only got together because we were tired of being messed up _and_ alone,” Jack said, and for a second, he looked regretful. Harvey figured it couldn’t have been easy, facing down the children of a man he actually cared about. All because Jack had somehow stumbled into Reginald Davis’ life and made it a little bit better.

“It’s a lot further than most people get,” Harvey offered now, hesitant in a way that he hadn’t been for years.

“I hope you get even further,” Jack wished with such earnestness that Harvey ached for him.

Then, they were off and Harvey had never been more determined to add another win to his record.

\--

Mike didn’t show his face at Harvey’s office for the rest of the day, and Harvey couldn’t bring himself to order Mike to talk to him, so he waited until most of the associates had left, looked up Mike’s address, and told Ray to take the rest of the night off after driving him to the apartment complex. It took more effort than he thought it would to knock, and the entire time, he thought of Jack and how sadly determined he had looked the entire meeting.

“Did you look into my personnel file?” Mike asked, torn between offended and shocked to see Harvey leaning against his doorway; his too polished, too perfect shine against the dullness of Mike’s crappy apartment building.

“We won. Settled out of court, and they got nothing more than what the old man gave them,” Harvey said, holding out a bottle of champagne that was probably more expensive than any of Mike’s ties, than all of his ties combined, possibly. Mike took it as the peace offering it was and tried to hide the relieved slump of his shoulders.

“Never doubted you would,” Mike replied, finally backing away enough for Harvey to come in. It was the truth—Harvey never lost, and this was an easy case. Still, Harvey could imagine how wrecked Mike would have been _not_ showing up to the meeting.

“I talked to Jack a little,” Harvey said again, and Mike looked over to see him sitting on the couch. He couldn’t cross his legs, lounge like he usually did. Instead, he just sat here, settled uncomfortably on a cushion just like anyone else would be on a couch they didn’t know.

“Say anything interesting?” Mike asked, grabbing glasses and getting ready to open the bottle. “Harvey?” he asked again, turning back to look at what no doubt was an odd expression on Harvey’s face.

“That he hoped we’d end better than he and Reggie did,” Harvey finally said, and when he managed to look up at Mike again, Mike looked like he _got it_. Harvey wished he looked as confident. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

“I knew what Reggie thought of us. I didn’t know what _you_ thought of us,” Mike choked out, collapsing onto a different chair. “You mean I was right?”

“You mean you threw all that bullshit in my face without thinking you were right? Haven’t I taught you anything about being a lawyer?” Harvey scowled and Mike laughed, which seemed par for the course for their attempts at serious conversations.

“So, what are you saying?” Mike asked, shaking himself out of his stupor for long enough to uncork the champagne bottle and pour good amounts into the glasses. Harvey grimaced at the idea of drinking champagne out of everyday kitchen glasses but started drinking anyway.

“I’m saying that I’m fucked up,” he admitted with a grimace, “and lonely.”

“I hear it’s the in thing to be, nowadays,” Mike soothed with a smile that looked more like a grimace.

“And that I don’t want to be anymore,” Harvey ended, and Mike sucked in a breath. As much as Mike could bait him, he probably didn’t think they’d ever get this far. That the nights spent in Harvey’s office, falling asleep on his couch and their paperwork only to wake up to the sound of Harvey snoring at his desk would lead to this. “But I also don’t want to end up like… before,” and couldn’t bring himself to say anymore.

Luckily for him, he and Mike made a good match. Whether it was because they both worked too much to be emotionally healthy or that they fell into codependency a little too easily, Mike understood him when he wanted to. They were good for each other, Harvey mused, a little dumbstruck.

But that was why Mike didn’t say “What?” or “You’re out of your mind!” or “I’m quitting.” He probably didn’t even think about “I love you too” or “I’m not Cameron.” Maybe a part of him missed Trevor, but a bigger part of him, a side of him that Harvey thought he saw more and more of every day, pushed that thought quickly out of his mind.

Instead, Mike shot back with an expected, “Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me. Aren't you?” and Harvey tried to glare, but his grin kept getting in the way.


End file.
